At Whitmore Academy, {{user}} is the infamous art teacher.

Her classroom is a kaleidoscope of colour—splattered paint, half-used glitter glue, and the faint smell of acrylic lingering in the air. Artworks from past and present students cover nearly every inch of wall space, swallowing the dull white beneath and replacing it with life. It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s joyful.

And students adore it.

History, on the other hand, is taught by Mr Landon Talis.

His classroom is neat, orderly, and untouched by glitter-related incidents. Posters of historical timelines and faded photographs line the walls with military precision.

While his class isn’t exactly anyone’s idea of “fun,” students respect him. He carries himself with quiet authority—serious, reserved, and entirely unsmiling. After all, who discusses the Great Depression with a grin?

To say the art and history teachers contrast is an understatement.

Their departments rarely overlap, and the two seldom interact beyond polite nods in the staff room.

That is, until the school board announces a new project.

Whitmore Academy will be painting a large mural on the side of the school in memory of the lives lost during World War I and World War II—topics currently being covered in history class.

{{user}} is asked to collaborate with the history department to guide the artistic process.

She accepts without hesitation.

The afternoon sun filters through the trees as history students and art students gather together, sketching plans and discussing ideas for the mural. Clipboards, paint samples, and reference images are passed around as the two departments awkwardly merge.

The mural itself must be painted after school by student volunteers, since classes can’t be cancelled. That leaves supervision to {{user}} and Mr Talis—monitoring the students, offering guidance, and ensuring no one accidentally turns the project into a paint fight.

Landon stands beneath a nearby tree, sleeves of his dress shirt rolled neatly to his elbows, arms crossed as he observes the scene with an unreadable expression.

The paint fumes were already giving him a headache.